100 Years or Less: An Extension
by Haylee Cohen
Summary: A piece detailing each of the eras described in my songfic 100 Years or Less. Contains MarkRoger relationship & teen characters. Don't say I didn't warn you.


note: You're what you own, and I'm not a rock star, filmaker, or amazing song.

_I'm fifteen for a moment_

_Caught in between ten and twenty_

_And I'm just dreamin'_

_Countin' the ways to where you are_

Mark Cohen couldn't help but notice him.

The way his choppy, bleach-blonde hair was always unkempt, the way his green eyes were always only halfway-focused on the English teacher in the front of the room, the way his cheeks always had some stubble on them though he was only fifteen... Those were things that Mark couldn't help but pay attention to. And sure, he wasn't gay (at least, he didn't think he was) but he could see why Roger Davis was a compulsive dater. He had an endless supply of girls lining up to be his sweetie for the week.

And Mark didn't even know him. They were just in Chemistry and English together, and they sat on opposite sides of the room. Besides, Mark was the definition of loser: pale, scrawny, with glasses, always with the crappy camera he'd gotten for his birthday last year. He was not the kind of boy who was outgoing, he was not the kind of boy who could come up to somebody and ask if they wanted to be friends. Shy was the word for it. Shy and nerdy, that was Mr. Cohen.

Fortunately for him, however, Mark had a friend, a certain curly-haired, pale-skinned, drama queen friend, who was not afraid to talk to people. It was all Maureen's ways that had gotten Mark into the smoke-filled, teenager-ridden home of some kid he didn't even know. Hell, he didn't know _anyone_ at that party, except Roger, and he was thankful for that. This party terrified him to no end and it was nice to have a familiar face.

"Hey, you."

Mark was surprised that someone was talking to him. Him. Nobody talked to him, especially not when he was as shy and scared-looking as he was. But, he was glad to see his classmate standing in front of him. He looked so much cooler than Mark did, with his ripped jeans and leather jacket... Mark must have looked _so_ cool with his sweater.

"You're in my Chem class, right? Mark?" Roger seemed to be the epitome of laid-back and cool as he smiled at the other boy. His words earned a nod from Mark.

"Yeah, I'm in your English class too," Mark replied, voice soft and shy as it always was around people he didn't know well. He'd _like_ to get to know Roger...

"I know. I'm Roger," Roger grinned back at the boy, "You want a cig or something? You seem really tense." He chuckled, because it was very obvious that Mark was nervous and scared and extremely unexperienced with events like this.

"A cig...?" Mark seemed confused for a moment before he realized that Roger was referring to a cigarette, "Oh!" _Nice way to start off the night_. "Uhm, sure."

His inexperience was simply getting clearer and clearer as the night went on--He coughed on a cigarette, almost threw up after one drink, and was overall very awkward the whole time he was there. But, this was nothing to deter the guitarist, because from the second he'd seen him, he had decided that he liked Mark. He seemed like a fairly awesome kid, even if he was a complete klutz and nerd. Roger was positive it would get better.

And, it did.

Even as his old group of friends grew apart, each member going their own way, Roger had Mark. He had Mark to tutor him. He had Mark to copy his homework from. He had Mark to keep him company. He had Mark to try out his new songs on. There would always be Mark; Losing him was a laughable idea, and also one that neither boy wanted to think about. Luckily for them, they didn't have to. Things were fairly mellow, aside from Roger's hundreds of girlfriends and Mark's lack of even one, aside from Nanette Himmelfarb, of course, but she didn't count.

"Mark?" Everything about the moment was casual. Roger was comfortably perched on an armchair, watching as his newfound best friend filled out college applications. It wasn't so far off, now that they'd turned eighteen and were halfway through high school.

"Is it something stupid?"

"No." Roger seemed to be offended by this, putting on a face of mock disbelief and pouting. Of course, he knew and understood that Mark was busy, college was important to his parents.

"Alright, what is it?" Mark raised his head finally, focusing on Roger through his spectacles and raising his eyebrows curiously.

"You know how I wanna move to New York?" Roger was fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket, looking at the papers scattered around the floor.

"Mhm."

"Is college really something _you_ wanna do, or is it just your parents?" He jumped subjects, though Mark had a feeling that, in a way that was characteristic of Roger, it all would come together eventually.

"Well, I mean, I know it's important, but I'd rather just, you know, do what I like to do. I don't wanna be a lawyer." The pale redhead shrugged helplessly.

"Come to New York with me." Roger smiled that mischevious smile at Mark, but the other boy looked unsure.

"Roger, I don't know, I me--"

"There is nothing New York can't offer you."

And Mark nodded.


End file.
